A 2024 Christmas Story

Christmas 1990, in Reno, Nevada.

It would be my first Christmas Eve rolling my own patrol ride as a Police Officer, working a swing shift from 1500 hours to 0100 hours.

Editor’s Note: Our 2023 Christmas Story, about a fictional Trooper who got a visit from Santa Claus, was well-received by the RevolverGuy audience, who was (as always) generous with their praise. It was a good story, and I was proud of it, but it couldn’t measure up to the holiday memories it evoked from the real-life lawmen in our audience. Their true stories were much more powerful than our fictional account of “Cops and Christmas” could ever be.

This account from my friend Mike Lessman is one of those stories. Like most “cop stories,” it’s a great tale, but I know you’ll quickly recognize, as I did, that it’s much more than that. Mike’s story is a testament to the way that Jesus Christ works through us to accomplish His will, and a reminder of His eternal love for us.

Our police officers do the Lord’s work every day, and I think Mike’s story is a good reminder of that. I’m honored that he’s chosen to share it with us, and even more honored to call him my friend.

As we gather this season, to celebrate the birth of our Savior, and to give thanks for all of His gifts, let’s remember to say a prayer for our officers and their families. They’re a special gift from God, and a blessing for us all.

Merry Christmas,

-Mike

I had been a police officer for approximately 18 months, and had been out of the FTO program for almost a year–still learning an ever-changing, calls for service job, where the day-to-day was never the same, and an adventure was always just around the next corner . . .

By the time my shift would end, it would be Christmas Day, bringing the Joy that comes with it . . . for most.

In Service

One of my first calls for service came as I was leaving the motor pool in my Black and White 1987 Plymouth Fury. I was off to one of the less affluent neighborhoods in South Reno, to respond to a Missing Person report. An Adult Hispanic Male, early-40s, with a mental handicap, had wandered off from his family’s new home.

When I arrived on scene, I met with an upset family. The wife stated that her husband, the father of her children, had suffered from a brain tumor. He’d had an invasive medical treatment to surgically remove it a few years ago, which left him mentally handicapped with the capacity of (approximately) a six-year-old child. If left unattended, he would wander off into the neighborhood. They had just moved into this neighborhood a couple of days ago, and were unloading a moving truck today, when their family member vanished.

in peril

They had just moved from our sister-city of Sparks, Nevada (there’s an old saying that, “Reno is so close to Hell, you can see Sparks”). Our missing male had wandered a few times from his old residence in Sparks, whose Police Department had taken a missing persons report a couple of months earlier, and the family still had a flyer from this occurrence.

While getting a statement from the wife, I could see their children (who were of elementary and middle school age) were visibly upset, since they just had moved in, and their father didn’t know the neighborhood. Nor did the neighborhood know him–on previous occasions, concerned neighbors had returned him home, knowing that he would wander off, if not kept under a strict eye, but we couldn’t count on that this time. Of major concern: We had just had a cold front move into the area, and the early morning hours were hovering around -15 degrees. Forty to Fifty-degree swings are not uncommon in the high-altitude desert during the winter season . . . where you wear a down coat in the morning, shirt sleeves in the afternoon, and go back to a down coat, as soon as the sun drops below the western mountains.

After writing her statement, the wife pleaded with me to attempt to find her husband. She was acutely aware that the dropping temperatures could result in a disastrous Christmas morning for her and her children.

the search begins

I finished taking the report and contacted Sparks PD for any further information they could provide on previous locations where our missing male had been located on other occasions, and to see if they could check those locations now, to see if he wandered back to them, or his old residence. Dispatch was advised of the missing male’s description and announced the ATL (attempt to locate) on the airways every hour, to remind officers to keep an eye out.

After making several missing person flyers, I headed out to distribute them, and notified my Sergeant that I would be occupied for a few hours, trying to locate the missing male. I told the Sergeant that if we didn’t find our male this evening, we would surely find him by morning (and not in the good kind of way). He agreed, and told me to stay on the case for a few hours. I got busy passing out flyers at local businesses and casinos.

Several hours went by with no success. We had a few possible sightings, but nothing fruitful was discovered. Six hours into my shift, I went back in-service, to help our patrol team shag calls for service. I kept an eye on pedestrians as I rolled from call to call of families acting in a not-so-Christmas spirit, on this Christmas Eve. A little voice in my head kept reminding me that if I didn’t find our missing male tonight, patrol units would find him in the morning, frozen to death on Christmas, which weighed heavy on my mind.

intervention

At approximately 2330 hours, the temperature had dropped dramatically. It was now about -2 degrees and I was heading eastbound to a domestic violence (DV) call, crossing our main street that runs multiple miles from the north end to the south end of our city (Virginia Street–Business 395, at the time). I then spotted a male that matched our missing person report on the southeast corner of the intersection. His clothing matched the description, but he had his hood pulled up, so I couldn’t see his face.

I told dispatch to send another unit to cover the DV call, and notified them that I had possibly located my missing person. I pulled to the curb line, activated my emergency lights (to divert traffic around my vehicle, and possibly gain the attention of our missing male), and exited my patrol vehicle to make contact.

It was him. I spoke with him about finding his family. He was cold and shivering, and appeared confused. He had a jacket pocket full of candy bars that he had apparently taken/shoplifted from a supermarket, trying to stay warm and finding something to eat. After shaking him down, I placed him in the back of the vehicle and took him to a local hospital to ensure he was not hypothermic.

While the hospital staff was attending to our missing person, I made telephone contact with the family, telling them that I had found their Husband / Father, and that he was in the ER in good condition. I told them we were making sure he had not become hypothermic during his adventure, and that he was no worse for wear, after he wandered off.

It was the BEST Christmas gift I could ever give that family . . . and a Christmas Eve I will remember forever.

reflection

I would not understand the gift the Lord had given me, until more than a decade later. He had given me divine intervention multiple times in my life, placing me in the right place, at the right time, to save lives. I realized this during a reflection period after a successful hostage rescue, and also realized the connection to an event that happened 22 years earlier, around midnight, on a lonely, deserted train station platform in NYC. On that night, at age 15, I had saved a gentleman in his 70’s from choking to death from an obstructed airway, by performing a Heimlich maneuver that I had only learned a few weeks earlier . . .

But that’s a story for another time. Merry Christmas!

-Michael Lessman